February 22, 2013

KEEPING IT REAL

This post
could very well lead to my banishment from the publishing business for all time. These just
might be the last words that anyone ever reads from me. But it’s important. So
if you never hear from me again, it’s not because I didn’t try. (Think Jerry
Maguire.)

I started
out as an author in the Christian book business, but today I work as a literary
agent and will handle just about anything. Religious, secular, etc. There are a
few subjects I won’t touch, for various reasons; but let’s table that
discussion for another time.

A little
backstory on me: I grew up in the 1960s and 70s, somewhere between the
generations of Leave It To Beaver and
Happy Days. Like most children I
knew, I went to church every Sunday. Sometimes we had spiritual discussions
around the dinner table. Like 95% all Americans, we believed in God; like 84%,
we called ourselves Christians.

Not so with
the Cleavers. Or the Cunninghams. Or the Ricardos, the Nelsons, or the Bradys.
We didn’t see them pray, attend church, or talk about God. Unless, of course
someone got married; at that point they called a preacher, booked a chapel, and
suddenly knew to stand, kneel, and bow their heads at all the right times.

On a more
contemporary note, I think of one of my favorite sitcoms, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. When Baby Nicky was born, they considered
it vitally important to have him baptized – by a minister they didn't know, at a church they didn’t attend, in keeping with a religion they didn’t
practice. It was a touching, warm-fuzzy, made-for-television family moment. What gives?

Of course, I
don’t live in a cave; I’ve known plenty of people who live this way. But if you
didn’t go to church last week – and you don’t plan to attend next week – then who
do you think you’re fooling, by showing up now?
It all seems so empty, so shallow, such a waste of time.

Now, back to
publishing: Some of my clients write books that are explicitly and
deliberately religious. Some are more subtly so; others offer no spiritual
content or value at all. Which is fine with me, because I work under a big tent
that has a place for everybody.

Recently I
had a client who wrote a wonderful romance novel. I pitched it far and wide to
about 30 publishers, some “Christian” and some secular. Uniformly, the secular
publishers rejected it. Why? Some didn’t give a reason, but among those who did,
they all said it was too religious. “We believe this book is more suitable for
a Christian publisher.” Huh? I scanned the manuscript: the couple prayed
together once, and talked about God twice.

Which is exactly
what over 90% of all Americans do. Or at least, it’s what we say that we do, when someone asks. We call ourselves Christians,
but we’re ashamed to talk about Christ in public. We decry the moral bankruptcy
of movies filled with illicit sex and graphic violence, but we can’t bear to
watch when someone dares to live out the lifestyle we idealize.Which is why I appreciate the TV dramas American Dreams (NBC, starring Tom Verica and Brittany Snow) and Blue Bloods (currently on CBS, with Tom Selleck and Donnie Wahlberg). Without pretense, these shows explore the lives of people of faith, as they struggle to live out their faith in a hostile world.

Of course,
if a book (or script) contains depictions of warlocks casting spells – or New
Agers chanting in Sanskrit – or Thor saving the world – nary an eyebrow is
raised. (And does anyone remember Hot Stuff, the hilarious insecure adolescent
demon from Harvey Comics?) These are fascinating tales with exciting visuals,
and we love them. Only a small-minded bigot with manifold hangups would ever
object.

Funny, I thought
we strove for realism in our literature and movies. Witness the TV hits Criminal Minds and Law & Order; we applaud their increasingly gritty depictions of
big-city crime. The hospital dramas ER
or Chicago Hope give us all the
sights and sounds of a busy hospital. Philadelphia
showed us, for the first time, the ordeal of a man battling the ravages of
AIDS. And yes, our children really do sneak around to drink, smoke, and fornicate in the strangest places. So we might as well talk about it.

But if you want
to talk about God, virtue, clean living? Go hide in a corner, and hope no one
sees you. And don’t forget to bring a lawyer, in case someone overhears and gets
offended.

2 comments:

I nearly had a heart attack after reading your first paragraph! Don't do that to me! It's discouraging sometimes how much we have to fight against the main stream to bring back the morals and values our country was founded upon. But that's no reason to give up. I'll fight to the end, and with the help of my agent ;), we'll make a dent.

Hear ye, hear ye!

Since the late 19th century, London’s Hyde Park has been known as a symbol of free speech in the Western World. In a section known as Speaker’s Corner, anyone can step onto a wooden crate (the type that was used for transporting soap) and have his say on any subject under the sun – politics, religion, current events, or anything else. Well, I’ve never been to London. But here I am, anyway. Deal with it.

Why I'm here

Welcome to my blog. From a very young age I always wanted to be a writer. I had plenty of things to say, but no forum and no audience. Well, now I have both. Through my books and my weekly posts, maybe I can change the world, one keystroke at a time.

About Me

I was born in 1962 in an old Spanish colony on the coast of California. They called it The Village of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels, in honor of Mary the mother of Jesus. Never heard of it? Oh, silly me. Like most people, you probably know it by its abbreviated name in Spanish:Los Angeles.
I grew up somewhere between the gleaming glass towers of Bunker Hill and the bright lights of Hollywood.